


Pulse

by michals



Category: Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol (2011)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:53:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2002863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michals/pseuds/michals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brandt knows what to do when Ethan gets like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pulse

**Author's Note:**

> This exists purely because I wanted to write a sex scene. So.

He can see the strain from across the room. The muscles in Ethan's back roped tight through the material of his t-shirt, the stiffness in his legs and arms as he stands over the bed strewn with papers. Brandt imagines a good push and he'd snap, all brittle and sharp.

So Brandt doesn't push. He steps behind him carefully, mindful of the way the air around Ethan is singing with his nerves and frustration. He touches his fingertips to the crests of Ethan's hips, so soft and slow he might not have even felt it. But he stands even straighter still, body compressing in on itself even further.

"Just me." Brandt whispers as he presses his hands down, little by little sliding across the cotton shirt until he's palming Ethan's hips, the curve of them molding into his palm. 

"Who else would it be?" Ethan says, and there's the strain right in his voice and Brandt can't tell if it's an attempt at levity or annoyance because it comes out stressed and tired regardless.

"Shhh," Brandt whispers, so close now the breath of it puffs out against the nape of Ethan's neck and he twitches just the tiniest fraction but Brandt still catches it. He chases it with a kiss below his hairline. Ethan lets out a tense sigh.

Ethan can get like this, so knotted and closed up tight that he's nearly shaking with it. The thoughts in his head, the fear and anxiety, all the weight of it, comes crashing down at the same time. He tries not to let on, if Benji and Jane notice at all then they stay away, worried like Brandt is that there might be a destruct button on Ethan's nerves. But William Brandt is an expert on Ethan Hunt. And he knows better than to leave him be.

Brandt presses his face into the crook of his neck and shoulder, skimming his lips across the small expanse of exposed skin. He keeps one hand rounded over Ethan's hip - he likes how easily it fits there, like lock and key - and slowly drags the other across his stomach, palm flat against the clenched muscles, shirt snagging on his fingertips.  


Ethan doesn't show signs of giving in, Brandt can feel the cords of his neck pulled taut and his hands remain in fists by his sides. Ethan needs taking care of, Brandt knows this, always has, but it takes effort to pull him down from such great heights. 

Brandt's left hand stops over Ethan's heart, pounding deep and nervous as Brandt steps in, presses his whole body against Ethan's back, curves around him with their shoulders bumping. 

"Let go," He says against Ethan's ear, finally laying a proper kiss again the skin at the point of his jaw. He trails open mouthed kisses down from there to the rise of his collarbone, finally moving his hand to yank aside the shirt, stretching it with two crooked fingers.

There's a give to Ethan's posture now, small and subtle but the vibrating nerves have stopped humming under his skin. He's still ramrod straight, locked up like a vault.

"Not now," He manages, voice still rough and Brandt shushes him again, suddenly winding the arm resting on his chest to encompass it, practically yanking him back into him so they slot together head to toe. He reaches over to tilt Ethan's head back, fingers sure and strong against his chin, knuckles curled against his throat as he kisses wherever he can reach. 

He's got Ethan's heartbeat against his forearm and his pulse hammering against his fingers when Ethan sags a little, knees going slack and he sinks a whole inch. His body's burning hot against Brandt's front and his eyes are closed, so reluctant to give in.

"Let me." Brandt murmurs, tilting Ethan's face toward his own, punctuating it with a kiss to corner of his mouth, and Ethan does. His muscles unclench and the fight goes out of him, his body falls in increments, little by little until he breathes out and it all goes at once. 

He's bending back into Brandt's body, meeting every small movement Brandt makes with his own. His hands no longer in fists by his thighs, grabbing at Brandt's across his chest and reaching back to card through his hair, head falling back against Brandt's shoulder.

Brandt worries what Ethan does when he's not there to catch him, when he doesn't have anyone to fall on. He's not a statue, he's not a machine, he admits when he's scared, when he's wound up, but there's stress there that no one can understand that he thinks he has to bear alone and it eats Brandt up inside. He's no stranger to the crush of it himself, this is his therapy too.

He spins Ethan around in his arms, crushing their mouths together, keeping them molded together touching at every point. He's still got a hand under Ethan's shirt and he runs it across the expanse of his back, fingers dipping into the curve of his spine and Ethan hums against his lips. 

He two steps them backward, the back of Ethan's knees hitting the bed and they crowd over it awkwardly until Ethan falls, sitting on the mess of papers still thrown across it. Brandt's already sweeping them away, important files and intel scattering to the floor and even he couldn't care less. Ethan's yanking them out from underneath him, dumping them unceremoniously over the side. 

Brandt finally follows him down, knee dipping into the bed between Ethan's spread thighs, plastering their mouths back together as he lets his weight settle down on top of Ethan. Ethan can't seem to decide where to put his hands, touching Brandt wherever he can reach. 

Ethan's got one leg thrown up over Brandt's, keeping him as close as possible, the heat between their bodies making Brandt gasp. Ethan manages to pull his tie apart, their hands meeting on the silky fabric as they pull it from his shirt and let it fall over the side of the bed to join the papers. 

He squeezes a hand between then to unbutton his shirt, pulling back to slip it down off his shoulders and away. Ethan pants below him, hair falling in his face, pupils blown wide. 

Brandt searches his face for any trace of lingering tension and finds none. He kisses him long and slow, thoroughly enough that Ethan huffs and he pulls away and asks, "Okay?" 

"Yes," Ethan breathes out, eyes meeting Brandt's, looking intense and heated. And he says it again as Brandt kisses down his neck, and as he slides his shirt up his chest, and as he pulls his belt from his pants. 

Brandt mouths at his dick through his underwear and Ethan groans. He laps at him until the fabric is wet and clinging and Ethan's shuddering with every swipe of his tongue before he folds it down off his hips and takes his cock in his mouth. 

He goes so slow and gentle that Ethan's making stuttered little sounds and desperately running his fingers through Brandt's hair, but Brandt wants this to last, wants to shake loose every nerve from Ethan's body so he takes him as deep as he can and stays there as long as he can manage and he sucks at the base of his cock, tonguing the ridge of the vein beneath the skin. 

He wraps a hand around either side of his pants where they're bunched up under his ass and Ethan lifts his hips so Brandt can slip them down his thighs. He watches Ethan's face as he sticks two fingers in his mouth, wetting them thoroughly. Ethan's chest rises and falls with ragged breaths.

He ducks back down to kiss the head of Ethan's cock, settling down on his elbows and guiding Ethan's leg over his shoulder. He rests a spit slick finger against his perineum, just pressing there until Ethan's rocking his hips into it, silently pleading. 

He leaves off his cock as he presses inside with one finger, a sweet push as Ethan's body lets him. He thrusts shallowly as Ethan opens up to it, whole body melting bit by bit. His eyes are closed, one arm thrown up over them and Brandt watches his face shift as he pushes in deeper. 

He places gentle bites against the dip between hip and thigh, his free hand against his other hip, thumb tracing circles there. Ethan accepts the push of the second finger with a shaky sigh and Brandt replaces his mouth on his cock, bobbing down on it in tandem to the movements of his fingers. 

When Ethan's shoulders start to curl in, when his legs wrap around Brandt's shoulders uncontrollably and his body tenses up again Brandt pulls away before he can come. Gently pulls his fingers out and brings Ethan's legs down. He crawls back up Ethan's body, hand resting hot and heavy where his shirt's rucked up across his chest, heartbeat a frantic, fluttery beat. 

He kisses him more, shoving the taste of himself into Ethan's mouth and Ethan clutches at him. He drags his hips across Ethan's, pants wet from his leaking cock. They rut together like that for long slow minutes, kissing breathlessly.

Brandt asks, "Do you want me to fuck you?" Steady and careful and watching Ethan's face. Ethan's mouth is wet when he begs, "Please" and his voice is rough still but for all the right reasons this time.

He gets Ethan's pants and underwear the last bit off and shucks his own as Ethan turns on the bed. Brandt's got slick in the drawer by the bed, and he fingers Ethan as he lies down on top of him, nudges his knees apart with his own. 

He guides his cock in with one hand, the other curled around Ethan's waist, feeling his muscles jump under his fingertips as he pushes inside. 

He doesn't stop the long slow movement until he's fully inside Ethan, the stretch of him wrapped so tight around his cock he moans with it. Ethan's already got one leg twisted up, opening himself up til Brandt's as close as he could possibly be. 

"Fuck, Brandt," Ethan mutters, head turned to the side on the pillow, eyes clenched shut. Brandt reaches up with one hand to brush the hair out of his face then leaves it there, fingers against his throat in an echo of earlier. 

He draws his hips back and thrusts back in, slow and unhurried, reveling in the heat and the pull on his cock, the way Ethan shudders when he pushes back all the way in. There's no trace of the tension that shut him up before, he's panting open mouthed, shoulders slack against the mattress as Brandt fucks into him.

He rocks back to meet Brandt's thrusts as he gets close and Brandt can't hold back anymore, thrusting harsher and faster, pressing his face into the hard muscles of Ethan's back. But he wants Ethan to fall apart first, wants to feel him come and know Brandt's there when he comes back down. 

He curls himself around Ethan, palming his cock between his stomach and the mattress with one hand and capturing Ethan's in the other. He twines their fingers together and Ethan twists to kiss him, desperate and breathy. Brandt rolls his hips as he jerks his hand on his cock and Ethan gasps and comes. 

Brandt lets him ride through it, stays buried in him until he stops shivering with his climax. He shifts back and Ethan groans with it, oversensitive, but he wraps a hand around Brandt's thigh and pulls at him still he starts moving again. Brandt fucks him till he's practically vibrating with it, until he's so overwhelmed he comes with his hips pressed full against Ethan's ass and he bites off a shout.

They stay panting there for long minutes, letting the paperwork on the floor, the mission stress and the weight of the world slip their minds for now. And Ethan kisses him slowly and says, "Thank you."

Brandt presses their foreheads together and counts the beat of Ethan's pulse against his fingers.


End file.
